Nothing from Mari.
I turn it off again and lean back against the headrest.
The engine starts, a rolling hum that vibrates through me.
“Do you take a lot of planes?” I ask.
My seatmate stares blankly.
“Is this one good? Safe?” I press.
He leans over me to look out the window. “Got two wings.”
The plane starts its acceleration down the runway.
“I’m Nova,” I manage as the plane lifts off.
Talking will keep my mind off our situation.
Hoodie Guy glances over but doesn’t answer. He’s a few years older than me, probably late twenties or early thirties.
No name. Got it.
“Are you from Denver?” I press.
“No.”
“Me neither. I’m going for a wedding.”
He exhales hard, as though resisting small talk is the noblest possible pastime and he considers himself a knight of the highest order.
“Work.”
It’s a grudging gift from lips so perfectly formed I’d trace them, if I didn’t think he’d bite me first.
His knees nearly reach the opposite wall, even with the added legroom, while my feet barely touch the floor.
“Construction? Because you’re huge,” I go on at his expression. “Tall, I mean,” I add as the woman across the aisle coughs. “Not huge other places.”
His brows lift.
Now I’m looking at the hands folded across his stomach. They’re big, and tan, with long fingers and tidy nails.
Outside, the ground drops farther away. I force my attention away from the window.
“I’ve avoided flying for years now, but my sister is getting married and I won’t let her down. In fact, I’m working on my speech right now. Do you want to hear—”
“I don’t.”
My mouth snaps shut.
If Mari was here, she’d tell me not to talk so much.
I flip my phone facedown in my lap and take a deep breath.
“I’m sorry. It’s my nerves about flying. I’m trying not to have a panic attack. If I have to spend the entire flight curled in a ball on the floor, I will get there in one piece. I’d do anything for my sister. We’d do anything for each other,” I finish in a single breath.
My seatmate frowns, studying me with a new intensity.